


Error in the Code

by thecinemashow



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecinemashow/pseuds/thecinemashow
Summary: RK900 must terminate the error that allows him to feel emotions.





	Error in the Code

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ this is the first thing I've posted on ao3 so idk what I'm doing exactly lmao
> 
> anyway (here's wonderwall) have some boys

It had to be an error in his code; there wasn’t any other possible explanation. Simply a small glitch amongst the stream of 0’s and 1’s. Some of these glitches were excusable, minor enough that a report to CyberLife and one or two upgrades could fix them. Then, there was this.

Androids weren’t supposed to feel emotion. They may be able to simulate them, but there was no coding in any program that instructed them to actually process and personally experience such things.

It was an error RK900 had no interest in telling Amanda about. After all, it was an issue the android knew how to easily correct, something that was easy enough to fix before she could have any suspicions.

Now, the error in RK900’s code was trapped beneath him, writhing in an attempt to get out from under his crushing grip. He looked down blankly upon the figure below him, to the grey clothing, pale skin, and terrified brown eyes. Frantic hands pressed at his face, trying to push him off and away, but to no avail.

“Please,” a voice strained, scraping out from under crushing hands.

RK900 had heard of RK800— _Connor_ —in quiet whispers, in criticism from Amanda. His previous model: slower, weaker, and less efficient than himself. The famous deviant-hunter-turned-deviant bestowed an unknown feeling upon RK900 the first time he saw him.

Carefully styled hair, soulful brown eyes, immaculate clothing, and a lasting expression of gentleness were features RK900 had never encountered before. A foreign warmth spread through his body with a brief irregularity in the pumping of his thirium regulator; yet, no matter how many diagnostic scans he ran, the android could find nothing wrong with his systems.

It was easy to deduce that the error in RK900’s coding was the very existence of the obsolete RK800 model. Connor was the reason behind the entirely unwelcome manifestation of what RK900 could only presume to be emotions.

In order to be a properly functioning machine, RK900 was acutely aware that errors could not be tolerated under any circumstances. Even such an example of what he could only consider being the closest thing to perfection needed to be terminated.

_I am a machine._

Machines don’t feel emotion.

RK900 kept his gaze locked with that of Connor’s, regarding him with detached interest. If he could keep himself distanced mentally from the entire situation, he could easily carry out this personal mission and complete it faster than if he were fully engrossed in it all, which included the risk of being subjected to human emotions again, all connected to Connor.

Suddenly, one of the hands pressing at RK900’s face reached up and threaded itself into his hair. Tension rippled throughout his body at the sudden contact, which was all it took for the android below him to yank his head down and crash their lips together. RK900’s hands slipped away from Connor’s throat as he sought to keep his balance.

RK900 was thrown back into the action, any sense of detachment shattered as a cold, seizing feeling clutched his body. His LED circled red as different options flashed through his mind, each running through a small simulation of the outcome in the matter of a second.

_Logical._

Jerking away from the kiss, RK900 swiftly tore into Connor’s lower torso, ripping out the thirium regulator and throwing it over his shoulder. It clattered far behind him. He watched something—panic?—seep into Connor’s eyes. His hand flew to his torso, pressing against the wound as though it would somehow fix the absence of the regulator.

“Why?” Connor whispered, voice faint and shaky. He coughed harshly and RK900 looked on in resignation as blue blood dribbled down his chin.

“All errors must be terminated,” RK900 replied in a clipped tone.

Connor’s LED pulsed an angry red as he stared at RK900 with a wild expression. The android studied it carefully, trying to discern the different emotions present. Sadness, horror, distress, but mostly fear.

_Fear._

Androids did not fear death.

As RK900 started to pull away from the body beneath him, Connor reached out and grabbed his wrist. His hold was pitifully weak, but he moved at a fast enough pace to catch the advanced model off-guard. He reached out, gently cupping RK900’s face and staring him dead in the eye.

_Sorrow._

The same coldness seared through RK900’s body again. This time, he couldn’t move. He watched in a mute state as Connor’s hand slowly drew away and fell back.

_Death._

RK900 pushed himself up to his feet, looking down upon the stiff body. Even with brilliant blue blood soaking his shirt and the ground around him, coating his chin and hands, Connor managed to look somehow...beautiful.

RK900 looked down to his wrist, examining the blood soaked into his jacket. Slowly, he reached up to touch the blood streaked on his cheek. He stared at the mess for a moment, LED briefly pulsing yellow before circling back to a calm blue.

_Oblivion._

_No more emotions._

_No more errors._

_Mission accomplished._

The world lapsed back to nothing.


End file.
